


Trust Fall

by flintwoodandco



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Confessions, Emotions, Enemies to Lovers, First Time, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post Hogwarts AU, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 21:03:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13555542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flintwoodandco/pseuds/flintwoodandco
Summary: After being forced to go out with friends, Marcus doesn't know how his night will end





	Trust Fall

Marcus doesn’t know how he’s roped into these things. He’s sure his life only consists of him pulling the short straw and Marcus has resigned himself to the fact as he follows his friends down the street.

Then again, maybe he’s trying to find an excuse rather than recognizing the real reason he’s here. 

With his puppy dog eyes, Terence had convinced Marcus to come out with Adrian and him for some fun. Fun that takes place at a noisy, crowded club. 

“Here we are, gents!” Terence announces as they enter through the steel doors. 

Marcus blinks at the flashing lights, what he assumes are strippers dancing on podiums, bodies packed together like they all actually enjoy this. He frowns though at the smell or sights he’s not sure.

“Come on, Adrian,” Terence yells over the pounding music, dragging Adrian into the crowd and leaving Marcus by himself.

“Yeah, thanks, I’ll be fine,” Marcus calls to their disappearing figures, scowling when several people bump into him. 

He edges around the sweaty crowd, eye out for some semblance of a bar so he can at least get a little enjoyment out of this. It’s not that he minds the variety of men and women, he just doesn’t feel up to taking the first random stranger home tonight. 

As he reaches the bar, Marcus thinks he can see Terence tugging Adrian up onto a small stage, his grinding almost excessive at this point. Adrian seems to enjoy it however and Marcus knows it’s better to let them be. 

When his drink finally gets to him, Marcus watches the crowd, faces fading in and out with the strobe lights switching in splashes of purples and reds with the music. Occasionally a person or two catches his attention, but as luck would have it, their interest is in someone else. Marcus doesn’t expect anything less. 

He nurses his drink and wonders just where Adrian and Terence have gone off to now. They’re more than capable to keep an eye out for each other, but he’s getting a little lonely if he’s being honest. Marcus finishes off his drink to check up on them, hoping he can spot Terence in his crop top amongst a sea of the same outfit. 

Trying to stick to the edges, Marcus finds it difficult to move against the current of dancers. There’s no use in complaining though and Marcus only frowns when he’s bumped into time and time again during his search. 

Despite his efforts, Marcus can’t find his friends for the life of him and he does a tight turn, scanning his surroundings. He bargains finding a snitch would be easier at this point, taking sanctuary in an isolated corner. 

The music drones in his ears and he doesn’t feel like dancing along, especially when those around him try to egg him on. He ignores them as best he can, his attitude turning sour with each passing minute. 

Searching the crowd again, Marcus’ eyes stop on a man swaying to the beat. He’s not dancing like those around him. Every inch of his body is a part of the music, moving in ways that make Marcus’ mouth go dry. Even though Marcus is just looking at his back, he can tell the man is immersed. No one matters, all this man cares about is dancing, truly savoring the music. 

As much as Marcus hates to admit it, this draws him in. A need to touch, to share in whatever this man is feeling, consumes Marcus and he takes a chance. 

Pushing off the wall, Marcus hones in on his destination. Nothing else could possibly capture his attention at this point and strangers fade into the background with the pounding music. Marcus keeps his hopes low, his movements light as when he’s flying. If the man flinches at one touch, Marcus will leave. Go back to searching for his friends. Simple as that. 

When Marcus is close enough, his breath hitches as the man continues to dance. The moment is mesmerizing, overwhelming, and Marcus isn’t sure what to do first. So, he reaches out, placing a gentle hand on the man’s hip. 

The man stops and Marcus draws his hand back, but the man latches onto it, backing up until he hits Marcus’ chest. His dancing begins again, this time with heavy gyrating that Marcus has to match. 

Brave enough to put his other hand on the man, the two move like water spilling over and Marcus tucks his head into the crook of the man’s neck, breathing in his scent. 

The man hums, arms moving so they wrap around Marcus’ neck from behind. It gives Marcus the opportunity to admire the defined muscles as he places a small kiss on one arm.

The man laughs at this, lowering his arms to turn around and the world crashes around Marcus. 

The two freeze, eyes locked and wide, unable to say a word. Marcus’ shame swallows him whole and he steps back, stammering out an apology. 

“Fuck, sorry, Wood.” It comes out broken, Marcus’ breaths quickening. The room feels tight, his heart constricting, but his body refuses to move. 

Oliver himself gapes, his face flashing in a myriad of emotions before he seems to settle on one that is unreadable. He reaches out, a hand hovering just above Marcus’ arm as if offering him a choice. 

Marcus can only stare at the gesture, the rise and fall of his chest evening out. Oliver couldn’t have picked this, yet the look in his eyes is something Marcus has been searching for. He lets Oliver move closer, fingers tracing lightly down his arm until Marcus feels a light inside of him grow. 

As if sensing his decision, a grin spreads on Oliver’s face and he grabs onto Marcus’ belt loops, pulling him back in again. 

“Want to show me what other moves you have?” Oliver speaks close to Marcus’ ear, his voice clear over the music. 

With Oliver holding onto him, his hips sliding, Marcus finds it in himself to grin back and place his hands on Oliver’s waist again. It’s not long before the two grind together, their dancing turning into erratic movements that still somehow fit the music. For Marcus, it’s almost a dream come true. 

His feelings for Oliver have never been clear. Whether their ongoing rivalry clouded his vision or something else, Marcus only wishes this moment had happened sooner. 

He and Oliver press their foreheads together, staring deep into the other’s eyes, a silent conversation years in the making. When Oliver grabs onto his face, Marcus can’t help but wonder if Oliver has the same thoughts as well and they meet each other in a searing kiss. Marcus doesn’t care if this is all adrenaline, mistakes they’ll regret in the morning. 

When the kiss breaks, Oliver’s look is almost feral and Marcus swallows, merely guessing where they’ll go next. They hardly know each other, yet he thinks they know more than anyone else ever will. 

Oliver’s hand latches onto his own and before Marcus knows it, he’s out of the club, breathing in cool night air. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Oliver jumps in, his voice shaking a little. “I know this is beyond anything…”

“Wood,” Marcus interrupts, firm, but gentle. “I don’t think one night will destroy us.”

Oliver seems pleased with this answer, his face lighting up a little and Marcus’ stomach twists. He adjusts to the change of scenery, the buildings looming above as Oliver brings him into one of the complexes. 

They don’t make it very far with Oliver pushing Marcus up against the wall, capturing his lips again with a small moan. Marcus thinks he might never tire of this and presses against Oliver’s body, his hands roaming under Oliver’s shirt.

When Oliver ends the kiss, Marcus almost pouts in protest, but he keeps quiet. What awaits them will probably make up for all this teasing and the anticipation in Marcus rises.

Entering Oliver’s place is a struggle, the two unable to keep their hands off each other as they stumble through the doorway. Oliver tears off his shirt the moment they’re inside and Marcus follows suite, groaning as they grab onto each other. 

From the hallway to the bedroom, they strip each other down, dignity be damned, and Marcus finds himself being pushed back onto the bed. 

He can only stare as Oliver climbs on top of him and the mood shifts. With so many harsh memories, both are hesitant as if something will crumble at any moment. The comments they throw at each other on the pitch suggest nothing more beyond negativity and yet they’re here. Tangled in each other, a night of forgotten promises awaiting them.

Oliver’s hand tracing down his face makes Marcus shiver and he looks away, not used to having someone look at him for so long. Not like this. When Oliver kisses his cheek, reassuring and warm, Marcus feels something hot prick at the back of his eyes. He’s thankful when Oliver’s mouth wanders, kissing him until the passion rises up again. 

With their tongues tangling together, Marcus hardly notices Oliver’s hand trailing down and moans into Oliver’s mouth when his cock is tugged at. Pulling away from the kiss, Marcus steadies his breathing as Oliver moves, his mouth kissing and sucking the exposed skin as he shifts lower. Marcus watches Oliver for just a moment, his heart skipping a beat when Oliver looks back up. 

Oliver runs his hands up Marcus’ arms, his lips trailing from one side of Marcus’ hips to the other, eyes bright in the darkness of the room. It’s unlike anything else Marcus has felt and he trembles, his body relishing in the small act of pleasure. 

Marcus swallows when Oliver’s hands move to his legs and he closes his eyes to take in all that is Oliver. When Oliver licks at his inner thighs, a small gasp leaves him, his cock twitching with the ministrations on his skin. With Oliver moving closer, Marcus grips onto the bed sheets, already falling apart. The mouth on his cock is hot and Marcus arches his hips up, amazed at how much Oliver has already taken. 

With slow, methodical sucking, Oliver’s mouth works wonders and Marcus thinks he might not last much longer at this rate. The hands that trace along his thighs bring a whole new sensation, as if Oliver knows exactly what will make Marcus unravel. 

Oliver pulls off Marcus’ cock with a final lick and Marcus allows his whine to escape him. He’s sure by now Oliver needs his attention too, shifting a little so he can start to return the favor. Instead, he’s met with Oliver’s hand pushing him back down, a quick shake of his head. Marcus looks at Oliver, his eyebrows furrowed as his worry builds up. 

“This is about you right now,” Oliver breathes, his mouth ghosting along Marcus’ thigh. “We’ll get to me later.”

Waiting for a response, Oliver hovers between Marcus’ legs, his breaths teasing on Marcus’ skin. 

Nodding, Marcus settles back down on the bed, his emotions welling up again. He runs a hand through his hair, a shaky sigh leaving him and Oliver’s voice interrupts his raging thoughts.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Marcus shakes his head vigorously, pushing down his insecurities. “No. Everything you’re doing is perfect. I’ll let you know if we need to slow down.”

The silence lingers between them, Marcus finally falling back into what was happening before and Oliver resumes his attention on Marcus.

Pushing Marcus’ thighs back, Oliver ducks his head down, taking a small lick at Marcus’ hole. Marcus’ breath hitches but he positions himself so Oliver doesn’t have to be pushing at his thighs as much. With a nod, Oliver dives back in, his tongue working Marcus’ hole. The presses are gentle and Marcus’ mind processes this new feeling. When Oliver pulls away, Marcus thinks he’s done something wrong and shifts up a little, only to see a bottle in Oliver’s hand. 

“This next part might hurt. We’ll take it slow.” 

Oliver’s eyes bore into him and Marcus is sure his secret is laid out on the table, or rather, bed. At the very least, he’s glad Oliver doesn’t seem to mind the situation he’s been presented with. 

As the first finger enters, Marcus hisses at the intrusion, his head tipping back. It burns and Oliver keeps his finger where it is until Marcus nods for him to move more. When Oliver’s finger is fully inside him, Marcus is surprised by how much better it feels after his body gets used to it, sighing into the swirling motions. By the second and third finger, Marcus sees the pleasure in this, his moans small as Oliver thrusts his fingers in and out of them. 

“You can be louder if you want,” Oliver breathes, his free hand running along Marcus’ leg. 

Whether it’s embarrassment or discomfort of hearing his own voice, Marcus keeps his moans low and breathless. That is, until Oliver’s fingers rub against something inside of him.

“Oh, fuck,” Marcus groans, his hands twisting the sheets. 

Oliver lets a small laugh out at this, his fingers hitting the spot a few more times before pulling out completely. Seeing Oliver prep himself, Marcus’ nerves creep up on him and he freezes when Oliver’s cock presses up against his hole. 

“You doing okay?” Oliver pauses, a hand falling on top of Marcus’ own.

It takes him a moment, but Marcus finally gives Oliver a nod. He wants to feel this more than ever and if they need to stop, they will. Marcus gasps as Oliver pushes into him, his hands grabbing onto Oliver’s arms. 

Oliver moans quietly, gauging Marcus’ face as he’s fully seated inside. The pain subsides slowly and Marcus doesn’t like how long it takes for his body to adjust. He tries to give Oliver an apologetic look, only to be met by another kiss. 

When the kiss is finished, Oliver shakes his head, a small smile on his face. “It takes a while, don’t worry. It’s the same for everyone.”

Marcus bites down on his lip, hoping his libido isn’t carrying too much of his thoughts at the moment and tries his best to tell Oliver to move without saying a word. 

As if Oliver can read his mind, he moves slowly, his gaze never straying from Marcus’ face. It’s only when Marcus’ moans begin to pick up that Oliver’s pace does as well, his prostate being hit with almost every thrust. 

Marcus moans with abandon, his shyness fading away, and wraps his arms around Oliver as Oliver holds him close. 

He wants this to last forever, the pleasure, the feeling of Oliver, and Marcus comes, his body shuddering with his orgasm. As his high begins to fade, Marcus realizes Oliver has yet to come and he moves his hips, helping Oliver reach his release. 

The two remain as they are, their breathing loud, faces hovering near each other. Marcus thinks he’d like to be the one to initiate a kiss first and places a hand on Oliver’s face, pressing his lips gently on Oliver’s. 

Both are reluctant to pull away and Marcus blushes at his upfront action. While he’s used to taking the lead on many things, this is different. There isn’t a need to impress or race towards the end. Right now, Oliver relaxes him, a thought that shakes Marcus to his core. He keeps his hand on Oliver’s face, hoping Oliver guides him the rest of the way.

Oliver grins a little, continuing to hold Marcus close even after he pulls out. To see Oliver smiling at him, caring, welcoming, Marcus isn’t sure what to think. He stays quiet, his eyes following Oliver as he performs a quick cleaning spell and shifting them around until they’re both under the covers. 

With Oliver wrapped around him, staring into his eyes, Marcus glances downward, his mind racing of how to progress from what they have just done. 

“You know, I never really hated you,” Oliver breaks the silence first. “I wanted us to be friends, but I thought you wanted nothing to do with me.”

If Marcus were to be honest, he had wanted friendship as well. It was only after leaving Hogwarts that Marcus had realized how much his House and parents were controlling him. He’s done all he can to make up for those years, but somehow it’s never felt enough. He and Oliver could’ve been something great. The thought strikes Marcus instantly and the corners of his mouth twitch.

It feels too late for apologies and Marcus sighs, his hand tracing along Oliver’s back. “Think we could start over?” 

“I’d like that,” Oliver nods, shuffling closer to Marcus until their legs are tangled together. “You’ll stick around for breakfast, yeah?”

“If you’ll have me,” Marcus responds automatically, his heart soaring. 

In all his dreams he had never imagined this. Not Oliver curling into him, not a night that revealed so much. Where things turn out exactly as they should.

Marcus, who has never considered himself lucky, believes that maybe life does have something special for him after all and he holds Oliver close with the intention of never letting go.

**Author's Note:**

> god fucking tagging these stories makes me crack up sometimes
> 
> [Tumblr](http://flintwoodandco.tumblr.com)


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